The Irony of Pink

The faint blush on a newborn's cheek
as a loving mother embraces her child
Frills of fuchsia embedded in our hearts
From day one, pink presides

At the onset we see innocence,
through childhood aberrations and dreams
As time progresses, we see damaged souls
as all we can grasp is hope

Hope in that little pink ribbon
when doctors run out of choices
The power to fight to victory
until in the end, pink presides

It is the ribbon that connects us all
Binding mothers and daughters
The innocence, the hope, the victory
That leads us through the circle of life





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